Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mali and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Archie Shepp,
The Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
Thee Headcoats,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
Average White Band,
The Move,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aswad,
Minor Threat,
Sparks,
Agent Orange,
Ludus,
Aaron Thompson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Connie Case,
Pussy Galore,
Deadbeat,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Monolake,
F. McDonald,
Davy DMX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minny Pops,
The Star Department,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
Gong,
Fat Boys,
Talk Talk,
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
The Barracudas,
Technova,
kango's stein massive,
Ultravox,
Ossler,
Basic Channel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantytec,
Jeff Mills,
Don Cherry,
Flipper,
The Standells,
New Order,
Sixth Finger,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.